The last man I really cared for made me fee like dating is panning for gold. You just sift through the rocks and dirt and, then, if you’re lucky, you find a little sparkly piece of gold. And you feel special, because you found it.
My sparkly little piece of gold was smart and compassionate and handsome and funny and feminist and sexually dominant. He was an absurd combination of all the qualities I’m looking for, the rare qualities I’m looking for. He spoke two of the same languages as me — my spirit and my body — and the all-too-rare way that made me feel this person might understand me. Not too many men identify themselves on online dating web sites as feminists; even fewer are feminist and sexually dominant.
He also lived thousands and thousands of miles away on the West Coast. Keep reading »
When I tell people, “I live with my boyfriend three days a week,” I often get two reactions.
1. “That must be-um– challenging.”
2. “That sounds ideal!”
The first reaction often comes from a place of concern. How can you have a meaningful long term relationship when you only see each other three days a week? You can’t possibly know what it’s like to have a real, full-time relationship. What is he doing the other four days of the week, hmmm? Thoughts of infidelity run through their heads. How long could a relationship like this last? Keep reading »
Guest columnists and contributors are generously sharing their talents and insights while Wendy is taking some time to care for my new baby. Today’s letter is answered by prolific Dear Wendy commenter and social media consultant, Sarah Huffman.
My year-long relationship recently went long distance. I had gotten into several master’s programs — a few decent ones near him and an amazing one far away — and because of future career potential and pressure from everyone (including him) I chose the more prestigious, far-away program. The problem is that I am completely miserable. I am so in love with my boyfriend and I miss him so much, I don’t know what to do with myself. My school is a lot of work, which adds to the stress level. My fellow classmates go out and have fun – I’d rather get more work done so that I can have a few days to visit the boyfriend. Keep reading »
I was finishing college when I met my husband, Jason*, a carefree, polite Australian with dreamy blue eyes and shaggy brown hair who was on an extended working holiday. The attraction to his laissez faire personality and quirky accent was arguably a naive American girl’s knee-jerk reaction to a breakup with a controlling and insecure Brit. Yet, it is undeniable that our romance was of Hollywood screenwriting caliber. Set in the picturesque town of St. Andrews, Scotland — ironically at the same time and place where Prince William courted Duchess Catherine — I allowed this delicious Aussie, four years my senior, to sweep me off my feet. We strolled hand-in-hand through ruins on the beaches that lined the North Sea, snuck kisses in-between pints at our favourite pubs on Sunday afternoons, and celebrated my graduation from St. Andrews University in the company of my entire family, who embraced him immediately. I knew he was a keeper when he broke into the Royal and Ancient Golf Club where he worked to show me the grandiose dining room, which had banned women patrons centuries ago.
Nonetheless, reality always finds a way to spoil the fairytale. Soon after graduation, I returned to my parents’ house in Connecticut and Jason returned to his native Australia. While most flings abroad are retired, Jason and I couldn’t shake the feeling that we might be soul mates. We agreed to take a stab at our fledging union and if it didn’t work, we would walk away with dignity and respect knowing that we tried our best. Thus began a journey that far outweighed the rarity of our early beginnings as Jason and B.B. Truly, what was most unforeseen was not the juggling of the typical long-distance relationship, but where this brand of relationship took us and the questions we inevitably had to answer. Keep reading »
If you are the hopeless romantic type, this story might appeal to you. Alternately, if you are the jaded, anti-love breakup schadenfreude type, this story might appeal to you, too. This is about the last time I fell over-the-top in love, and the really terrible way it ended. Keep reading »
If you were porking someone the weeks leading up until Freshman Orientation and using the L-word, chances are you are “doing the long-distance thing” at college. And chances are a sizable percentage of your brain is elsewhere, when it should be focused on making new friends, pitching a column to the school newspaper, and discovering the least disgusting dining hall. I am here to tell you that it’s Band-aid time: that is to say, rip it off real quick. Do it. Dump your high school boyfriend.
Gather ’round, college freshmen, for a grizzled tale of love and loss from one who has been around the block. Keep reading »
It didn’t start out this way, but I’m in a long-distance relationship. Having your boyfriend live 1,300 miles away isn’t ideal, but as far as problems in relationships go, things could be much worse: He could be in Australia or he could be into furry sex or I could have caught him cheating on me with various tattooed women after I won an Academy Award and adopted a baby.
So, this isn’t some sappy, romantic article on ways to “Survive Your Long-Distance Relationship.” Here’s the real problem: a third party has entered my relationship, causing fights, miscommunication and anxiety. She’s sleek, sexy and smooth. Her name is … the iPhone 3G. Keep reading »
You’re in a long-distance relationship and things are going well, or perhaps you’re in a relationship with a partner who’s about to move to another city, and you’re considering a move to be with them. It’s a big, tough decision and one I’m well familiar with. Not only is it the topic I probably receive the most letters about for my “Dear Wendy” column, I was also faced with the same decision myself a few years ago. I chose to follow my heart and move to New York to be with my long-distance boyfriend, and if you’re a regular Frisky reader, you know by now we’ll be celebrating our first wedding anniversary this summer. But just because it was the right decision for me doesn’t mean it’s the right choice for every long-distance couple. So how do you know whether it will work out well for you? Well, you don’t ever know for sure! Even when it feels right, moving for love is a total leap of faith and it certainly was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done. But there are a few questions you can ask yourself to help decide if following love to another city is a good move for you. After the jump, eight questions to ask yourself right now. Keep reading »
You’re flirting on IM and email; the phone calls are long and romantic — this guy seems too good to be true! But there’s an obvious catch: he lives far away. The solution: visit him. Seems simple enough, but hot stuff, it’s not! Sure, romance means always taking a chance, but before you run off to visit your long-distance lover, don’t get swept away in the fantasy of it all. As someone who has been burned by such a seemingly sexy endeavor, I implore you to check yourself before you emotionally wreck yourself. Sure, on one hand, he could be your dream man and a trip like this could be the beginning of a beautiful long-distance relationship. But on the other hand, it could end with you running home to cry to your gal pals about the vacation time and money you just wasted on a big mistake. So, before you, my friend, start booking travel arrangements, here are some ways to ensure you’ll be getting what you came for when visiting that out-of-town beau.
Keep reading »